


The Sexual Awakening of Chloe Bourgeois

by breeeliss



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: And Marinette Doing Her Damn Best to Help Her Out, Chloe Being a Baby Gay, Coming Out Story of Sorts, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-08
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-08-29 20:13:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8503795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breeeliss/pseuds/breeeliss
Summary: “Chloe didn’t like girls. She didn’t like Ladybug.  She just wanted to make out with her and show her platonic admiration for Ladybug’s gorgeous commitment to civic duty. And if she wanted to continue the making out at Chloe’s place, then hey, who was she to deny a freaking superhero?”In which Chloe is new to the whole “not-straight” thing, and Marinette can’t just stand by and not help the poor thing out.





	1. Magazines and Superlikes

**Author's Note:**

> i'm starting another story i'm so weak jfc when will i get my life together?

It all started because she was late for her dental appointment.

Chloe was still convinced that had she not been busy agonizing over which filter to use for the Instagram post she was making that morning, she wouldn’t have forgotten to look at the time. Her driver wouldn’t have gotten her there after her appointment was given away. She wouldn’t have had to sit in the reception room and wait for the next available opening. She wouldn’t have been stuck looking through old magazines to keep her occupied because she wouldn’t have forgotten to charge her phone.

She would’ve just walked in, gone for her cleaning, and left.

Because if her life was going to be upended without her express permission, then Chloe was going to blame _something_. And that something was the reception room.

Specifically, the magazines in the reception room.

More specifically, the old August 2010 issue of _Madame Figaro_.

Even more specifically, the picture of Mylène Jampanoï on the cover of said issue.

Chloe didn’t know why the hell she was even so fixated on the damn thing. It was just a stupid magazine cover, and attractive actresses being spread across front covers was hardly anything to make a big deal of. But there was just something about the soft lighting, the dark makeup paired with the white dress, the full lips, and the eyes just boring straight into the camera that made Chloe pick up the magazine and stare at the cover. She wanted to say it was because it was impressive that they matched the color of the lettering to the exact shade of pink of Mylène Jampanoï’s lips, but Chloe was admittedly spending a longer time staring at the actress’s lips than anything else on the magazine cover anyway.

But straight girl crushes were a thing! Everyone in class gushed over Ladybug on a daily basis, and no one batted a lash at that. Mylène Jampanoï had beautiful lips. Stunning eyes. A gorgeous body. Her hair was a vision. She looked amazing in soft whites. Chloe had never had any trouble admitting that other women were ridiculously attractive, and this was another example of exactly that. Just a casual observation. She’d put the magazine down, and nothing had to be weird...

...except she swiped the magazine from the reception room, ripped the cover off, and hung it over her vanity that very afternoon.

It was the beginning of the end.

“It’s for makeup references, _Sabrina_ ,” Chloe snapped when Sabrina had questioned the photo the next morning. “I can’t very well trust ridiculous amateurs on the Internet for this sort of thing, now can I?”

It was a good enough excuse when it was just one. Except that Chloe kept swiping up the copies of _Madame Figaro_ whenever she was out shopping and kept picking the ones whose covers always gave her pause.

Eva Herzigova. Lea Seydoux. Yasmin Le Bon. More that she didn’t even bother to remember the names of. They all either wound up pinned up near her vanity for “inspiration” or they wound up as phone backgrounds for the sake of “aesthetic.”

And Chloe really did think at first that it was just a matter of inspiration and aesthetic. Ever since she gave Adrien an engagement ring made out of daisies and blades of grass when they were four, Chloe knew that she was going to marry a tall, rich, handsome man that would whisk her away on expensive vacations to Versailles and Barcelona, all the while making both of them look like the poster couple for lifestyles of Paris’s rich and famous.

But when she woke up one morning, beaded in sweat, after just having had a dream of kissing the ever living hell out of Mylène Jampanoï along with…. _other things_ ….she knew something was wrong.

Chloe didn’t even _have_ sex dreams. Wasn’t that a thing that only boys had? It was all they’d ever talk about, after all.

She may not bother to gossip with many people, but she was rather certain that girls didn’t gossip about sex dreams, especially not sex dreams with other women.

Girls were supposed to be having romantic dreams about moonlit boat rides and being wrapped up in the arms of handsome boys.

Not….whatever the hell _that_ just was.

She took a freezing shower, planted herself in front of her vanity, and glared at her reflection.

“Okay,” she told herself. “That was a fluke. This stuff...happens. Dreams don’t mean anything. You just think she’s really pretty and your brain mixed it all up. It’s fine. You’re fine. You’re not weird.”

It wasn’t the most convincing pep talk she ever gave herself — it didn’t keep her from staring a little longer at pretty girls that passed her in the hallways, it didn’t stop her from soaking up four page spreads of famous models and actresses, and it certainly didn’t stop the occasional but certainly very confusing dreams from interrupting her otherwise peaceful night.

But it all felt harmless. All of this madness could be chalked up to just being a minor inconvenience.

Enter Ladybug.

At first, Chloe thought that she was just projecting her relief of, you know, _not dying_ onto Ladybug after she saved her. Hell, Chloe had been thrown clear off the top of the Eiffel Tower, she was sure she would’ve professed her love right there on the spot for anyone who prevented her from crashing against the asphalt.

But when she opened her eyes and found herself in Ladybug’s arms, she couldn’t do anything other than blink up at her.

Ladybug couldn’t have been any older than Chloe but she was _beautiful_. Sharp blue eyes, soft hair, cute pouty lips, freckles dusting across her nose just underneath her mask, and her face was just so damn close to her own it was practically overwhelming. She briefly felt her cheeks heating up for reasons she couldn’t understand before Ladybug set her down and proceeded to stop the monster that was terrorizing the city.

And she did it _flawlessly._

In fact, it was the coolest thing Chloe had ever seen in her life.

Chloe wanted to be that — that beautiful, that talented, that brave, that amazing, that wonderful.

She knew from that moment on that she admired her fiercely, and she wanted Ladybug to know just how deep that fierce admiration went. Chloe wanted Ladybug to know that she was her biggest fan. Wanted her to know that she loved every single thing she did. Wanted to rattle off the long list of adjectives that Chloe had reserved for Ladybug because she deserved to hear every single one of them.

She wasn’t about to be ashamed of her Ladybug background, her Ladybug patterned purse, the Ladybug costume she had commissioned just for her, the selfies she practically begged Ladybug to pose for, or the way she’d constantly try to cuddle up to her and grab her so that she could tell her just how incredible she was, just how cool she thought she was, and just how pretty and brave and altogether perfect she found her.

Chloe was swept up in the Ladybug craze and suddenly all of those actresses and models she’d been admiring didn’t hold a candle to Paris’s superhero.

But then, a couple of months later, Chloe had a dream that involved Ladybug pushing her down onto her couch, straddling her hips, and pressing her into the cushions while she kissed her in such a slow, hot, delicious, tantalizing way that Chloe was practically panting when she woke up. Everything felt hot, her whole body was flushed, and she had to swallow her pride, slip her hand under the covers, and waste fifteen minutes letting off some steam before she could even think about getting ready for school.

She took another cold shower, sat in front of her vanity mirror again, and decided to come to terms with a few things.

Chloe didn’t _like_ girls. She didn’t _like_ Ladybug.

She just wanted to make out with her and show her _platonic_ admiration for Ladybug’s _gorgeous_ commitment to civic duty.

...and if she wanted to continue the making out at Chloe’s place, then hey, who was she to deny a freaking superhero?

There. A perfectly normal and logical explanation for everything.

Chloe nodded to herself, bit her bottom lip, and banged her forehead against the table.

“God, that was the gayest thing I’ve ever thought in my life.”

* * *

 

There needed to be a search engine for this sort of thing. Seriously. Because Google simply wasn’t specific enough.

Three more _dreams_ later and Chloe had just about had enough.

The only problem was that typing in “is having sex dreams about other girls gay?” led to responses that suggested she either really wanted to be friends with Ladybug or she really wanted to jump Ladybug. The desire to fall back on the former was strong, but the first thing Chloe looked at when she saw the new Ladyblog pictures that morning was Ladybug’s lips, and the first thing she remembered was that those lips were in places that friends definitely were _not_ supposed to put their lips.

The thought was not altogether unpleasant.

She was _pretty_ sure that wasn’t a universal sentiment across all straight females.

So much for that.

She thought for a while that she was being too specific — that maybe just typing in “girls kissing girls” would give her a wider breadth of answers. But then that immediately backfired when she accidentally clicked on a video that led to a website she certainly _did not_ mean to venture off to. The sound on her laptop was all the way up and she was completely unprepared for the lewd sounds that came spilling out of her speakers. It shocked her so terribly that her knee jerked up and connected with the underside of her desk which almost made her computer tumble to the ground. Once she managed to mute the video after a full fifteen seconds of awkward fumbling, Chloe snuck down the hall to make sure no one was awake to hear any of it, and deleted her browsing history four times for good measure.

Chloe found pregnancy blogs, Cosmopolitan columns, sex manuals, sex shops, BBM sites, internet celebrity vlogs, and even a few fanfiction sites, and everything she found was either completely unhelpful, too embarrassing to even look at, or started making her thoughts and doubts run so quickly and so intensely that she simply had to shut her computer and clear her head with some last minute shopping.

This wasn’t anything she needed to stress over, she tried to convince herself. Thoughts and dreams were just thoughts and dreams. So long as they stayed that way, no one had to know about it, and they could be easily written off and ignored. Sure she had all these ideas and desires in her head, but it wasn’t like she was actually going to _do_ anything about them. That would be absolutely ridiculous.

Except, a week later, she found out that it really wasn’t so ridiculous.

Honestly, Chloe wasn’t sure what she did this time to make this akuma go after her. It was rattling off something about ungrateful customers and making Chloe pay for all of her rude comments, but Chloe simply didn’t understand why the vendetta was so harsh. That barista should’ve made sure that she put the proper amount of espresso shots in Chloe’s morning latte like she so clearly asked. It wasn’t as if this sort of thing was difficult.

Chloe was doing her best to run down the cobblestoned streets in her heels, but one of them had already sunk in between the stones and snapped right in half, making her crumble to the ground and have to hobble around the corner barefoot while lamenting her three hundred euro purchase gone to waste. The akuma was much faster than she was and it was so close to finally catching up on her before Chloe felt something collide with her waist and fling her sideways into a dark alleyway.

The back of her head collided roughly with a brick wall, and she barely had enough time to straighten out her vision before a hand clamped itself around her wrist and pulled her along through a complicated series of narrow streets in a part of the arrondissement that Chloe wasn’t familiar with. Her tights were getting soaked while she was forced to splash through muddy puddles and her lungs were starting to ache from all the running, but it wasn’t until she was dragged in between two buildings that she realized who had rescued her back there.

Ladybug put a hand over Chloe’s mouth and held a finger up to her own lips. “You have to be quiet. That akuma is after you and I want to make sure we’ve lost her.”

Chloe pursed her lips against Ladybug’s hand and spoke through the space in the other girl’s fingers. “Why on Earth is it after me?! Why are they _always_ after me? I mean this is getting so — !”

The sound of windows breaking and civilians screaming started to come closer, and Ladybug pressed more insistently against Chloe’s mouth, glaring at her heatedly. “Shush! If you want me to save you, stop talking.”

The akuma was getting closer, and Chloe could start to make out the words of their insane rambling again. But Ladybug pressed herself closer to Chloe, braced her arms around Chloe’s head to shield her from view, and made sure they were obscured in the shadows as much as possible.

Ladybug was looking away from her and towards the opening of the narrow space they were in, obviously trying to focus on the problem at hand and trying to ascertain where the akuma was coming from. Chloe wished that she was that attentive to the primary issue, but the only thing that she was able to notice was that there wasn’t much space at all between the two buildings Ladybug had forced them to hide between. Which meant that Ladybug was _extremely_ close to Chloe. So, so darn close.

Suddenly she could feel everything: Ladybug’s exhales against Chloe’s hair, Ladybug’s soft chest pressed against her own, Ladybug’s leg innocuously slipped in between Chloe’s own. God, and she was close enough that Chloe could practically smell her. The lotion she used was heavenly, and her hair smelled nice too. She was wearing the barest hints of mascara and it made her lashes so long that Chloe wondered if they brushed the apples of her cheeks when she blinked. Her lips were chapped, but still as full as she remembered them from her dream. Gosh, and her freckles were simply charming. Chloe wished she had the time to count every single one of them, and she had the strangest compulsion to place a kiss on those freckles when she got the chance to thank Ladybug later.

The akuma was passing right by their hiding place, and Ladybug leaned closer against her, and suddenly the crisp fall weather was doing nothing to mitigate the amount of heat that was flowing through Chloe’s body. She didn’t think she’d ever felt her cheeks grow this warm in her life, and despite the danger she was in, all she wanted to do was bury her nose in the crook of Ladybug’s neck and inhale. It would be so easy to press her lips against the skin of Ladybug’s jaw, and easier still to drag them across her cheeks and to the corner of her mouth.

It felt like Ladybug was everywhere and it was absolutely wonderful. Chloe wanted to wrap an arm around Ladybug’s waist and pull her against her until there was no possible way for them to separate. Every pore in her skin was singing, and when Ladybug shifted against her as the akuma passed them, Chloe couldn’t stop the small gasp that left her throat despite how hard she was biting down on her bottom lip to help her maintain some sanity.

If Ladybug heard the noise, she didn’t acknowledge it, because just as the akuma turned down another street, she moved away from Chloe and pulled them out into the street where the distance between them suddenly felt miles and miles apart.

“I think the coast is clear for now,” Ladybug said. Ladybug pulled out her yoyo, flipped it open like a compact, and stared at the map that blinked onto the screen. “It looks like Chat Noir is on his way. Are you alright? You’re not hurt, are you?”

Chloe still felt dazed and lightheaded, and all she could do was shake her head and swallow.

Ladybug raised a brow at the answer, but quickly glossed over it in favor of snapping her yoyo shut and releasing the string of her weapon. “We’re going to lead it as far away from here as we can and purify the akuma. Run straight that way until you get home. No detours. No looking back. Hide in your room, alright? We’ll keep it away from the hotel.”

Chloe nodded quickly. She would’ve hidden in the sewers if Ladybug asked her to.

Ladybug reached over and squeezed Chloe’s shoulder. “Remember what I said. Home. Now. No stopping.”

She released her yoyo to hang onto a flagpole at the top of a building and swung over a few of the rooftops before she zipped completely out of sight. Chloe was left standing there, tights soaked, shoes lost, hair ruined, and her body feeling absolutely electrified with a feeling that she only ever felt on the mornings when she woke up from dreams she promised herself she’d forget.

Except this wasn’t a dream, and there was absolutely nowhere to run from this.

Chloe pulled on her pigtails and sighed through her teeth. “Crap.”

* * *

 

Alright.

So Chloe probably wasn’t completely straight.

Fine.

Whatever.

It took her a couple of days for her to really nail the reality in her head and stop herself from unconsciously contradicting it, but Chloe eventually got to the point where she realized that lying to yourself was possibly the stupidest waste of anyone’s time. After all, lies told to yourself were so easily debunked, it was sort of pathetic to keep it going for as long as she did.

The only problem was that, despite how much of a leap it felt like she made, she still felt like she was left with more questions than anything else.

Did she have to come up with a label now? Did she have a type? Was it important that she have one? Was there an easy way to find other people like her? You know. To ask questions. And...learn more about...things. Obviously. Duh. Not for anything else….

The label thing seemed easy enough until Chloe found out that were way too many words that maybe could’ve possibly described her. Lesbian felt too limiting. Bisexual seemed to maybe fit, but lately Chloe had been reacting a lot more strongly to Ladybug than she ever had with Adrien. Did that mean anything? She wasn’t sure. Certainly there had to be an umbrella term for all of these feelings, or at least a word for “hey don’t know what I am, but fantasizing about making out with girls just doesn’t seem straight to me.”

Plus, apparently, it got even more complicated than that. Femme. Butch. Lipstick lesbian. Chapstick lesbian. All words she’d never heard of and self-identifiers that she didn’t even realize people took on. Was she supposed to claim one of these as well? They seemed important, but it was getting to the point where Chloe was thinking of getting a freakin’ business card crafted there were so many labels she could possibly take on. Heaven forbid she should try to introduce herself to another girl, was she supposed to rattle all of these off in her introduction?

“Hi, I’m Chloe Bourgeois. I think I’m a lesbian, but I could be bisexual, although apparently pansexual could work too. Pretty sure I’m a femme even though I’m still not totally sure what that means, do you maybe wanna….get...coffee or something?”

No.

God, that sounded so stupid in her head.

Asking out boys wasn’t nearly this complicated. And straight people certainly didn’t have all this nomenclature to sort through. It felt like studying for a class! How was she meant to know about all of this? Was there a crash course she could look up?

Chloe was moping on her bed, flipping through the newest issue of _Madame Figaro_ — she was officially subscribed and the magazines came to her doorstep every month — staring at all of the new advertisements and interviews and photo spreads, wondering where she was meant to start. Her eyes drifted over to her desk where the Ladyblog was still open, a video looping of Ladybug and Chat Noir giving an exclusive interview with a local news station.

There wasn’t necessarily any more proof that Chloe needed to collect for herself. She didn’t have to kiss or touch another girl to know that she was just a little bit confused about her sexuality. But...the desire to do so was incredibly strong. All of her daydreams and thoughts and nightly fantasies, Chloe was tired of fleshing out all of these desires in her head. It didn’t help that she was pining after models and superheroes that were completely out of her league. It didn’t matter that Chloe was Ladybug’s biggest fan. Dating someone like that just didn’t seem sustainable or even possible.

What a damn shame.

But maybe if Chloe could find someone in person — someone her age, someone that was her type, someone that was completely accessible — maybe she could have someone to talk to about all this. Someone to go to with questions. Someone whose hand she could hold, whose skin she could feel, whose waist she could slide her hands around, whose lips she could kiss….

In class the next day, Chloe moped over to Adrien’s desk and collapsed on top of it, the back of her hand pressed dramatically against her forehead. “Adrien, darling, I’m suffering.”

Adrien wasn’t looking up from the maths homework he was finishing at his desk, but he moved Chloe’s bag from the edge of his desk to the chair next to him so that it wouldn’t fall over. “What’s wrong, Chloe?”

She flipped onto her stomach and peeked over to look at the upside down numbers Adrien was writing down. “How do you find girls?”

Adrien raised a brow at her. “Girls _?”_

“Yeah, you know, girls. Females. Women. Ladies. Pick your favorite.”

“Any particular reason why you’re asking?”

Chloe huffed and stared at her manicure. “I’ve recently come to the realization that I’m having trouble attracting the kinds of gir — ahem, _guys_ I’m interested in. I’m a lady with dreams and desires and I have every right to have someone who can satisfy those things. You’re just as high status and gorgeous as I am, so I figured you’d know a lot more about attracting other gorgeous people than anyone else would.”

Adrien snorted. “You do realize that someone confesses to you on a monthly basis, right?”

“Well that hardly matters when they’re not worthy my time, don’t you think?” Chloe scoffed. “Now come on, I need ideas, Adrien. This is urgent.”

Adrien closed his notebook and poked Chloe on her nose. “You’re asking me to help you find a boyfriend? I could put an ad out. Maybe get my father to pay for a billboard with your face on it.”

Chloe perked up. “Do you think that would work?”

Adrien rolled his eyes. “No, Chloe, I was kidding. Why are you even worrying about this all of a sudden? You’re always telling me how most everyone is unworthy of your time and attention, and that you’re better off alone.”

Chloe crossed her arms. “Those words never left my mouth.”

“Okay,” Adrien groaned. “I’m sorry Chloe, but I’m not going to be much help. I don’t know your type, and I’m not actually all that good at setting people up. You’d probably do better on your own.”

Chloe reached out for Adrien’s arms, not realizing that her skirt was hiking up with the effort, and Adrien had to quickly reach over and pull the hem of her skirt down while she whined at him. “Adri-kins _pleeeeeaaaaaase!_ I’m a beautiful girl that’s all alone in the world, isn’t it the most tragic thing you’ve ever heard in your life?”

“Will you hush up?” Adrien glared at her. “The entire class is staring. And you’re making a bigger deal about this than it needs to be. For someone who treats her cellphone like another limb, you’re making poor use of it.”

Chloe sat up on the desk. “What do you mean?”

Adrien pursed his lips, reached into his pocket for his cell phone, and swiped around a bit before he turned the screen towards her and showed Chloe the welcome screen for what looked to be a dating app. “These are a thing, you know.”

Chloe immediately wrinkled her nose at the app. “Ugh, Adrien, those are for desperate people who can’t find dates.”

Adrien narrowed his eyes. “This coming from the girl who’s literally splayed across my desk and complaining that she’s single.”

Chloe opened her mouth to protest, but slowly shut it and folded her hands in her lap. “...fine.”

“Look, I’m not saying it’s a perfect solution, but at least it’s a start,” Adrien said. “It finds people that are geographically close to you, and you can either swipe left for the people you don’t like and swipe right for the people you do.”

“I know how the stupid app works,” Chloe grumbled, grabbing the phone from Adrien and swiping through his recommended profiles. She started swiping left on the first few she saw. “Boy, none of these girls are worth your time, my dear.”

Adrien reached across his desk and pinched her leg. “Will you cut it out? Look, it’s easy to use, and you might just match up with someone that’s not a total creep. I actually ran into a few girls on here who were really sweet, and we met a couple of times in person.”

That peaked Chloe’s interest. “Really?”

“Yeah, I mean you get a quick sense of who’s worth your time and who isn’t. Can’t say you’ll find your soulmate on here, but you’ll meet people. Might satiate your _tragic situation_ for a bit.”

“Was that sarcasm?”

“With you? Never.”

Chloe glared at Adrien’s sly smile and decided to ignore him in favor of looking through his profile settings. It seemed easy enough. She wouldn’t have a shortage of good photos, that was for sure. And she was positive she could come up with more interesting profiles than any of these silly girls that were popping up in Adrien’s stacks. Besides, in the settings where you controlled the age and distance range of the people in your stacks, there was even a filter for “Only Women.”

That seemed like exactly what Chloe needed.

She reached over and patted Adrien on the top of his head. “I suppose this will do. Thank you for your help, darling, you’re simply precious as always.”

Adrien reached over and plucked his phone out of her hands. “Yeah, yeah,” he smirked. “Now get off my desk. Class is starting soon.”

Chloe huffed, picked up her bag, and hopped off of Adrien’s desk so she could slip into her own seat. While their teacher spent the first half of the lesson going over new material, Chloe had already downloaded the app, pulled photos off of her Facebook, linked up her Instagram, crafted a cute, witty profile, and set up her filter settings.

It was entertaining if nothing else, and certainly addicting. When Chloe wasn’t shopping, at nail and hair appointments, or doing her homework, she opened up the app and flipped through the dozens of profiles that were presented to her. Over a few days, she’d managed to rack up a decent number of matches — there was such a powerful, satisfying thrill at knowing that someone somewhere near you found you attractive as well — but she hadn’t worked up the courage to message any of them first herself. She truly took it for granted how much she was used to expecting other men to come and try to dote on her and flirt with her. Chloe worked well when someone had already tried to lay the groundwork out for her, and she had the power to either refuse or move things along. This, however, was an entirely different game.

It seemed like her matches were all being equally as shy about messaging first, and the app was only serving to soothe her ego and give her a sense of what her type was.

Lots of dark hair and light eyes coincidentally enough. The irony was not lost on her.

She supposed it wasn’t all that bad. At the very least, it was nice to know that people found her attractive and interesting, and she had plenty of time and opportunities to take advantage of all the matches she’d made if she ever managed to stop being so damn cowardly and send a simple “hey” to someone. It was so beautifully separate from her life at home and at school as well. It was just a simple pastime of looking through pretty strangers and hoping that some of them liked her back. Nothing about it had to be intimidating, confusing, or embarrassing.

Enter Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

Chloe was swiping so quickly she almost missed her profile. But a text notification had made her stop for just a brief second, and that was enough to let her eyes linger on what was definitely Marinette’s profile.

It was the first time she’d seen anyone she knew in real life on this app, and the absolute _last_ person she was expecting to find in her stack was freakin’ _Marinette_.

She didn’t even know Marinette liked girls. Since when did this happen? No one told her anything!

But it was definitely her. There was no denying the pictures. One of her posed in the mirror of her room. One of her crouched over her sewing machine. One of her twirling in a dress in front of the Louvre. One of her, Alya, Nino, and Adrien’s faces squished together in a crowded selfie. A picture of her with some gorgeous evening makeup on and that one honestly looked really really good, _wow_ that was a stunningly beautiful picture —

Well. Anyway. It didn’t matter.

Chloe and Marinette didn’t like each other.

In fact, Chloe interacted with Marinette more than anyone else in their class — even Adrien — simply because of the fact that they liked to butt heads so often. It was just so damn easy to fight with the girl because she thought herself to be so nice and approachable and sweet and holier-than-thou and it just made Chloe want to throttle her.

It didn’t matter that she was objectively pretty and that she apparently seemed to be on dating apps looking for other girls as well. As fascinating as that was, it held no interest for Chloe other than it being a rather curious little tidbit for her to privately chuckle over. She thought about screenshotting it and showing it to Sabrina for a good laugh if it didn’t mean outing her dating app settings to her friend.

Oh well. Swipe left it was.

Except Chloe was a _damn idiot_ and honestly _the stupidest person in the world_ because she accidentally superliked Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

“Fuck!” she screamed. “Fuck, fuck, _fuck!_ ”

Marinette was going to see that. Marinette was going to definitely see that. Shit. Shit shit shit.

She got up from her bed and started nervously pacing around her room, trying to figure out if there was a way to undo a superlike, but all she was able to do was sift through her existing matches and keep sorting through the rest of her stack.

God, here Chloe was just trying to find a fun pastime and find single, attractive girls in her area, and she basically just outed herself to the one person in her class she couldn’t stand the sight of over a damn dating app of all things.

This is exactly what she got for buying the free version of the app instead of paying for the extra features like, oh, undoing the worst mistake of her life.

Chloe was going to see Marinette _in school tomorrow._

She threw her phone on the best and pressed her hands to the side of her face. Alright. This was fine. This was all fine.

If anything, if she really wanted to, Chloe could play this off as one big joke. Making Marinette believe that she was into her only to prove her wrong. Or maybe purposefully trying to catch Marinette on the gay half of a dating app and hold it over her head.

Both rather weak forms of blackmail and ridicule, even for Chloe, but they’d have to do in a pinch.

Of course, all of that got blown straight to Hell when, in her car and on the way to school the next morning, her phone notified her that she had a new match.

It was Marinette. She swiped and liked her back.

Chloe stared down at her phone and squeezed it hard enough for the plastic of her case to start creaking. “That little _brat!_ ”

The moment the car rolled up to the curb in front of the school, Chloe marched up the steps to the school, flounced straight for the locker room, and scanned the crowd of students before she saw Marinette chatting with Alya and pulling her books out of her locker. She pointed a finger straight at her and growled, “You!”

Marinette raised a brow as she stuffed another book into her bag. “Me…”

“I need to talk to you!” Chloe snarled. “In private!”

Alya scoffed and moved to stand in front of Marinette. “Oh please, like you have any right to — ”

“No, no, it’s fine Alya,” Marinette muttered, not taking her eyes off of Chloe. “I got it, don’t worry. Let me talk to her.”

“You sure?”

Marinette nodded. “It’s fine. I’ll see you in class, alright?” She finished zipping up her bookbag, slung it over her shoulder, and shrugged her shoulders. “After you.”

Chloe sniffed, waved for Marinette to follow her, and led her into one of the girl’s bathrooms at the end of the hall. Chloe checked all of the stalls to make sure they were empty, and walked back to lock the door to the bathroom to make sure they wouldn’t be interrupted. Marinette was leaning against the sinks, looking bored and curious as to what she’d been called here for, but Chloe was too irate to care. She pulled out her cellphone, opened her dating app, and flashed the “It’s a Match!” screen between Chloe and Marinette that she hadn’t bothered to cancel. “Do you wanna go ahead and explain what the hell this is?”

Marinette’s eyes widened and smiled. “Oh my gosh, that was actually you?”

“So you admit it. You’re screwing with me!”

“I’m not screwing with you, you drama queen.”

“Then how else am I supposed to react to this?”

Marinette laughed a little and held her hands up. “Hey, _I’m_ not the one who superliked me.”

Chloe felt the heat rising to her cheeks. “T-That was an accident! You know damn well it was an accident!”

“Actually, I didn’t,” Marinette pointed out. “I...didn’t even know you were on this app looking for other girls. You can’t blame me for wanting to swipe out of curiosity.”

Curiosity? Is that all this was? “I’m not some oddity for you to mess around with, Marinette!”

“Hey, do you blame me?” Marinette snapped back, starting to grow annoyed. “For someone who goes on and on about all the boys who confess to her and how much you literally despise me, you liking me on a dating app was the literal last thing I expected. I figured I was being catfished or something, so I swiped right as a joke.” She blew out a huge breath and shook her head with a smirk. “I guess I was wrong.”

Marinette was standing there looking so smug and in control of the situation that Chloe suddenly felt like the floor was being pulled out from under her. This wasn’t something that she wanted anyone who knew her to find out about. Chloe barely had a solid understanding of all this stuff herself, it was just too much for her to start bringing in other people’s reactions and opinions into this. The only thing good about all of this questioning and confusion was that Chloe could at least control as much of it as she could so that it wouldn't be quite so overwhelming. And normally, someone like Marinette wasn’t even worth being intimidated by because Chloe demanded and received the upper hand in every interaction she had with people. That’s just the kind of person she was.

But this was different, and it suddenly felt like Marinette had caught her red handed with a gross, ugly secret that she’d been trying to keep locked up tight, and Marinette had absolutely no reason to be nice to her and cut her a break. That fear punched into her chest so sharply that her voice was caught in her throat for a few seconds. Chloe swallowed and tried to level her gaze as much as she could. “You can’t tell anyone.”

Her voice cracked and sounded a lot quieter than she meant for it, and Marinette immediately picked up on the change of tone. She moved away from the sinks and stepped carefully towards Chloe. “Hey, hey, listen. I was never going to tell anybody. Not about something like this. I’m not a monster…”

Chloe scoffed and pressed a thumb into her temple. “You hate me.”

“But that doesn’t mean I’m going to purposefully embarrass you about something like this,” Marinette sighed. “You clearly wanted to keep this a secret, and you only liked me on the app by accident. I’m not going to out someone like that without their permission.”

Chloe bit down on her lip and nodded. “W-Well…” she began. “Good. That’s...good.”

Marinette chuckled. “Yeah, well. Just trying to be nice.”

“Why?” Chloe asked in annoyance. “You’ve literally never tried to be nice to me before. This would’ve been a perfect way to get back at me. Can’t say I wouldn’t have done the same in your position.”

Marinette shrugged. “I mean, I guess I took a little bit of pity on you. Come on, everyone knows you pay for the extra features so you can undo your last swipe.”

“I didn’t know!” Chloe whined. “Leave me alone, dammit. This is all new to me.”

Marinette licked her lips and looked down at her feet. “This as in the app, or…?”

Chloe narrowed her eyes at her. “Or what?”

Marinette shrugged. “I don’t know. I might be assuming here but…”

“But what?”

“It’s just...well, you wanting to keep all this a secret and you sounding like you just started using the app...I mean I just thought that…” Marinette shook her head and stuffed her hands into the pockets of her sweater. “You know, what? Never mind. It’s not my business.”

Marinette was avoiding eye contact with her, and Chloe couldn’t help but purse her lips defensively. In a strange way, Chloe got exactly what she wanted — she met a girl in real life who also liked other girls. Of course, Chloe would have ideally liked for the two of them to find each other mutually attractive and then see where things went from there, but she supposed she really wasn’t in any position to be picky. Marinette certainly wasn’t ideal, but she got a sense that Marinette knew a lot more about all of this than Chloe did. Chloe wasn’t ever in the habit of being a beggar, but even she understood that they couldn’t afford to be choosers.

Chloe nibbled on her bottom lip. “Is this…” She cleared her throat. “Is this all new to you?”

Marinette lifted her head. “The app, or…?”

Chloe rolled her eyes. “Or.”

“Not really,” Marinette admitted.

“How long have….? I mean, have you always….”

Marinette laughed. “Um...had suspicions for a while,” she explained. “But known for sure? Only for about a year or so. Alya actually helped me figure a lot of it out.”

Chloe frowned. “Is she…?”

“No,” Marinette shook her head. “She’s just a good friend. Great listener, and gives great advice.”

Chloe nodded. “Huh…”

Marinette winced. “So I guess this is all pretty new to you, huh?”

“I guess.” Chloe raked a hand through her hair. “Not that it’s _any_ of your business but…” Chloe sighed. “This is all kind of unexpected. And overwhelming.”

“I totally get it,” Marinette smiled easily. “You think it’s just harmless at first. Maybe it’s jealousy, or maybe it’s just aesthetic appreciation. But, you can’t help the way your body reacts and the things your mind produces when you see someone you like. And it’s frustrating because you kinda have to get to know yourself all over again.”

Chloe furrowed her brows and tilted her head. “...yeah,” she said in wonder. “Exactly. Wait how did you…?”

“You’re hardly the first person to go through this,” Marinette grinned. “Trust me, I had my whole existential crisis about this kind of thing too. You figure it out.”

“That doesn’t sound likely,” Chloe scoffed.

“Well if you’re getting your advice from porn and crappy forums, then obviously not.”

“It’s the freakin’ Internet!” Chloe exclaimed. “Isn’t it supposed to have the answers to this crap?”

“Usually I find it’s better to talk to an actual person,” Marinette said. “Internet helps, but personally it feels a lot better to know that there’s someone else in the flesh that gets you. If not because they’re going through the same thing, then at least because they’re willing to be a shoulder to lean on.”

Chloe twisted her mouth and nodded. “Yeah. Makes sense.”

They stayed standing there awkwardly in the quiet bathroom for a few seconds, neither of them moving and both of them going back and forth between making awkward eye contact and quickly dropping it. Until finally Marinette groaned and said, “Oh come on, just go ahead and ask.”

Chloe crossed her arms. “Ask what?”

“You obviously have questions,” Marinette pointed out. “And if you had anyone to talk to about this sort of thing, you probably would’ve done it already, so just...ask. I’ll say yes.”

“You’re not making any sense, Marinette. Typical for you, but not everyone can keep up with your ridiculous thought processes.”

Marinette sucked her teeth and dug into her bag for a pen. “Spoiled little brat. Come here.”

“Ugh, what for?”

But Marinette didn’t wait for her to acquiesce before she reached forward for Chloe’s hand, brought it close to her chest, and uncapped her pen with her teeth. “What are you doing after school today?”

Marinette was scribbling something on the back of her hand, but Marinette squeezed her hand tightly when Chloe tried to grab it back. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Giving you my phone number,” Marinette said through the pen cap, scribbling the digits along with her name across the back of Chloe’s hand. “Alya is babysitting today, Nino is meeting a tutor after school, and Adrien’s got a photo shoot in the afternoon. I’m basically free until tonight. What about you?”

Chloe was staring at the writing on her hand with a mix of disgust, confusion, and fascination, but Marinette was staring at her pointedly and waiting for an answer to her question. Chloe swallowed and made sure to keep her gaze on the sinks next to her. “Nothing, I guess,” she muttered quietly.

“Cool.” Marinette capped her pen and stuffed it back into her bag. “Wanna get coffee?”

“Coffee?” Chloe repeated.

“Like I said, you obviously have questions,” Marinette sighed, her exasperation mixed in with a dose of pity and mirth. “And you may annoy me, but I can’t stand by and see another confused sapphic girl sit on her hands with no one to vent to. That’s just cruel.”

Chloe snatched her hand back and tucked it into the sleeve of her sweater. “Sapphic?”

Marinette snorted. “Sorry. Uh, women who love women. Umbrella term. You know, based on Sappho and her really gay poetry?”

“Huh,” Chloe hummed. “I must’ve missed that one…”

The comment made Marinette laugh hard enough for her voice to echo through the bathroom, and Chloe couldn’t help but marvel at the way the apples of her cheeks swelled with her laugher and made her eyes close sweetly with the effort. “Look, if you don’t want to, it’s fine. But...I know that I was dying for someone to confide in when I was questioning everything, and I can’t just stand here and not offer.”

Chloe eyed Marinette’s face for any sign of deception and bit the inside of her cheek. This was weird. So so weird. So so unexpected. But then again, so was her entire dilemma in general so she supposed the bizarre circumstances were just something Chloe was meant to roll with. Chloe couldn’t remember a time where Marinette was ever this nice to her, or ever laughed at something she said. Chloe still wanted to think that this was some elaborate joke, but Marinette was looking far too sincere for that to be the case. She must have actually wanted to help, and that reality alone was leaving Chloe reeling.

But...Chloe did have questions. More than anything, Chloe just wanted to talk to someone and know that she didn’t have to be alone in figuring all of this out. Being in her room alone, staring at pictures, analyzing fantasies, and scouring scads of information on the Internet alone felt far too isolating, and made this entire experience all the more overwhelming. Marinette had longer to figure this all out. Marinette might have answers. It was worth a shot.

Chloe balanced on her toes and finally nodded. “Alright. Sure. Coffee. But!” Chloe emphasized. “One condition!”

“Sure.”

“I propose a truce,” Chloe explained, “that holds only outside of school. And only to discuss...well...all of this. Otherwise, we are enemies within these walls! This isn’t automatically an excuse for us to start being friends or anything. So don’t get any ideas.”

“Of course not,” Marinette snorted. “Wasn’t expecting anything else.” She held out her hand. “So a truce then?”

Chloe grabbed Marinette’s hand and shook it firmly. “Truce. And, well...I suppose I should...thank you.”

Marinette smiled sunnily at Chloe and laughed as she brushed her bangs away from her eyes. “Don’t worry about it. Seriously. Weirder things have happened to me.”

Chloe checked her phone and saw that their first class was going to start in only a couple of minutes, and Marinette was already making her way towards the door to unlock it. “So…” Chloe began. “After school?”

“After school. I’ll meet you around the corner in case you’re worried about your image,” Marinete teased. “Can’t be seen together if we’re _sworn enemies_ after all.”

Chloe rolled her eyes. “God, I hate your sarcasm.”

Marinette snorted in laughter and slipped out the bathroom. “See you in class, Chloe.”

She closed the door behind her, leaving Chloe to stand alone in the bathroom feeling confused, but like she made at least a little bit of progress, albeit not in the way that she expected.

Chloe clutched the strap of her bag, scratched the side of her head and pouted.

“Crap...since when does she have such a cute smile?”


	2. Coffee with the Enemy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sh let's pretend this strange dating app i created is just tinder + picture sharing capabilities kk cool

Chloe didn’t freakin’ get Marinette. Like, on a fundamental level.

The whole point of two people hating each other was that it was supposed to be ridiculously simple. Chloe threw an insult, Marinette threw one back, everything was a competition, they saw eye to eye on nothing, and being in close proximity to each other was about the closest they could get to hell on Earth. Deceptively simple. In fact, one of the biggest comforts in Chloe’s life was that interacting with Marinette only necessitated three base emotions: anger, annoyance, and frustration. You couldn’t get any more predictable than that.

But of course, Marinette had to go and screw the whole thing up by being all _nice_ and _understanding_ and _pretty_.

Marinette wasn’t supposed to be any of those things. She was supposed to be her normal brand of infuriating so that Chloe could go on hating her in peace and the world could keep on turning.

Instead, Chloe was sitting in a coffee shop — clutching her latte like a lifeline — staring at Marinette sitting across from her and feeling thoroughly _awkward_ . She didn’t even think that was a thing she _could_ feel around Marinette.

Then again, Chloe didn’t think she would ever start liking girls either, so maybe it was time to stop acting so surprised by the fact that the world as she knew it was bursting into flames around her and just learn to get used to it at this point.

In this new alternate universe, Chloe wasn’t straight and Marinette invited Chloe for coffee so that they could talk about not-straight things.

She sipped at her drink. Yeah, no, totally fine, totally not weird. Let alone the fact that she didn’t even know where the frilly fucking hell to _start_ or what she was supposed to be saying right now. Plus she was pretty sure she had spontaneously developed restless leg syndrome within the last twenty minutes because the whole table was shaking from the effort, and Marinette was noticing. But Chloe couldn’t stop because Jesus _fucking_ Christ this was the most uncomfortable she’d been in her entire life and she was regretting this truce, and this coffee, and this whole day, and she really just wanted to die in private.

Marinette reached under the table and placed a hand on Chloe’s knee. The contact made Chloe jump in her seat, but at least it did the job of stopping her leg and the table from moving. “Spent good money on this coffee you know,” Marinette quipped. “Would rather you didn’t spill it all over the table.”

Chloe planted both feet on the floor and pressed her hands down against her lap to keep her legs still. “God, shut up, you’re not helping, smart ass.”

“Are you nervous?”

“No!” Chloe snapped. “Why would I be nervous, it’s _you_ , there’s literally nothing to be nervous about it, that’s the most asinine suggestion you could ever make, the nerve of you!”

Marinette pursed her lips and nodded. “Mmhm. Definitely nervous. I can understand that. It’s hard to talk about this stuff.”

Chloe groaned. “Ugh, stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Being all sweet and sympathetic and whatever it is you’re doing. It’s bizarre.”

“Kinda hard to help someone if I’m not at least one of those things,” Marinette said. “What would the alternative be? Would you rather me make fun of you?”

Chloe’s face scrunched up as she felt a retort ready itself on the tip of her tongue, but it died as her shoulders slumped pitifully. She traced her nails along the rim of her paper cup. “I don’t know anymore. We don’t exactly have a precedent for this, in case you haven’t noticed. And excuse me for being a little weirded out that we’re holding a goddamn intervention about my sexuality issues. This wasn’t even in the vicinity of being on my radar.”

She sounded a lot more fed up than she had meant to, but she could tell that Marinette had picked up on the tone. Marinette pulled her seat in closer so she could lean her elbows on the table. “Look. If this is too uncomfortable for you, we can both just go home and forget this ever happened. I already promised I wouldn’t tell anyone about this, and I won’t. But if you’re not ready to talk to someone else about it, there’s no sense in us being here.”

It sounded tempting, but altogether unproductive. Chloe had no intentions of letting anyone know this side of her, but so long as Marinette was in the loop and offering her expertise — as surreal as that was — Chloe would be an idiot not to take advantage of that while it was sitting in front of her. “No, no, it’s.” She swallowed. “I want to talk about this. It’s frustrating beyond belief to not be able to tell anyone about this. I just….have to get used to the fact that it’s _you_. We’re not exactly close or on good terms.”

“Alright, I’ll give you that,” Marinette sighed. “Although, I think when it comes to things like this, it’s best for people to stick together. And….maybe I was being a little selfish in wanting to talk to someone else who might feel the same as me. But I meant what I said. I want to help if you need it. Messy histories aside.”

Chloe bit the inside of her cheek. “Do you know anyone else? In real life I mean? That...well….”

“Nope,” Marinette sighed. “I mean, I briefly dated a couple of girls back when I was still experimenting, but we never stayed in contact. So as far as other girls that I’m constantly in contact with who also like girls, you’re the only one.” She chuckled. “Ironic, isn’t it?”

“Ironic doesn’t even begin to cover it,” Chloe said. Still, Marinette had a point. It was nice to be able to look at someone familiar and know that they at least partially understood you. Fine, she’d admit to the nerves, but there was some buzzing relief underneath all of that and it was the only thing keeping her rooted in her seat and humoring Marinette in the first place.

Chloe sighed out through her nose. Remember the truce. When they went back to school, they could go right back to hating each other and this all would seem much more normal than it did now. For now, this was purely a research opportunity, and Chloe was going to treat it as such.

“So!” Marinette chirped, lacing and unlacing her fingers on the table. “Uh….anything you wanna ask? I don’t really have a clear road map for this thing.”

“You’re preaching to the choir, darling,” Chloe muttered. She drummed her nails on the table and tried to figure out how she wanted to approach this. “Walk me through what your deal is.”

“Sorry?”

“What’s your story?” Chloe clarified. “Thought you were pretty hung up over Adrien. How did this happen?”

Marinette blinked and stared down at her hands. “Wow, uh, okay. I guess I can do that.”

Chloe raised a brow. “Too difficult a question?”

“Not difficult, just long. I mean, unless you want to hear all of it.”

Chloe shrugged. “That’s why I’m here and asking.”

Marinette rubbed the side of her neck. “I-I mean….I guess the crush on Adrien is still there, if I’m being honest. But it started to get all muddled up because I started seriously crushing on Alya. I think I mentioned that to you before.”

“How’d you know it was a crush?”

“I didn’t. Not for a long time,” Marinette explained. “I mean, I always found women attractive. But other girls always talked about finding other celebrities pretty too, so I thought it was just normal to think the same of your friends. But it started to feel more than that. I really loved spending time with her. Like, to the point where I missed her more than anyone else when we were apart for long periods of time. And that didn’t necessarily mean anything at first, but I realized things like hugging felt nice. Like _really_ nice. And cuddling in her bed felt nice, and having her kiss my cheeks felt nice. And just….having her physically close and being able to touch her and see her and smell her was comforting, I guess.”

“That just sounds like a really close friendship. Isn’t it?” Chloe asked.

Marinette shook her head. “It was too intense. It felt too….deep. Like what we had was good, but I could feel myself wanting more, and that _more_ felt a lot like the more I wanted from Adrien. I wanted to do stupid stuff like hold hands when we hung out, and I always made excuses to kiss her cheeks or her hands and things like that. Oh, and I was always touching her. I always _wanted_ to touch her. And, like you, I started looking online to see if this stuff was normal and I realized my feelings weren’t looking very platonic.”

“Fuck,” Chloe breathed. “Does she know?”

“Oh yeah,” Marinette said flippantly. “I told her a while ago. Just because it ached to not tell her, you know? Like I was holding onto something that I knew wasn’t reciprocated. And it wasn’t, but it’s honestly fine.”

Chloe felt her forehead wrinkling in confusion. “You’re so casual about this. That sounds messy as shit, Marinette.”

“Well, duh,” Marinette said dryly. “Not having your feelings returned is always going to be messy. But Alya’s a blessing. She was really understanding about it and wasn’t weirded out or anything. Just sorry that she couldn’t feel the same way I guess. Anyway, I don’t mean to get sentimental. I’m pretty much over it, and it’s all fine now.”

From the outside, Chloe hadn’t discerned any of this. To be fair, Chloe paid minimal attention to Marinette’s friendship with Alya so that probably had a lot to do with it, but she couldn’t imagine how absolutely disheartening it must be to have such deep feelings for a person only to find that they were completely incapable of returning them — like two pieces that were just never meant to fit together and wouldn’t no matter how much you tried.

Chloe thought about her sitting in her room pining after women who were entirely unattainable and admiring dating profiles of girls she didn’t know and hadn’t interacted with. She suddenly felt like she’d been spared from something awful this entire time, and even worse like she could potentially stand to lose so much more.

“This happens a lot, doesn’t it?”

“People don’t like other people back all the time,” Marinette said gently.

“No, but this is different, and you know that,” Chloe sighed. “It could happen that someone just…. _can’t_ like you. And you feel strange in your own skin.”

Marinette cupped her hands around her cup. “Sure. That can happen. It can also happen that someone likes you back, and everything feels light and happy and wonderful.”

Chloe snorted, but felt a smile curl at the corner of her mouth as her thoughts briefly scuttled over to Ladybug.

“Wait,” Chloe suddenly remembered. “But you’re still attracted to guys, right?”

“Oh yeah,” Marinette assured. “Pretty positive on that end. Crush on Adrien is still there, but I’m trying to leave myself room to consider women. Just so I can be confident in my sexuality. Hence the dating app.”

“Any luck?”

“Eh. Met a couple of girls. Went on a couple of dates. Kissed them both which, _wow_ , that was amazing and one hell of a revelation. But, aside from that, not really.”

“Wait,” Chloe shook her head. “Question.”

Marinette waved a hand. “Ask away!”

“Are you….bisexual then?”

“Still playing around with labels, but yeah, that seems to be working for the moment.”

“How the heck does liking both work? Like do you have to like them both equally?”

“Nope!” Marinette smiled. “You can like men more than women or the other way around, or even like them in different ways. You can like some romantically and not sexually or the other way around too. Depends on you. I’m pretty split down the middle though. Sexually and romantically attracted to both in about equal measures.”

Chloe thought back to some of her more _vivid_ late night fantasies. “Of course sexually meaning….”

Marinette smirked. “Kissing. Touching. Clothes off. _Other stuff._ ”

Oh, Chloe was _plenty_ familiar with that “other stuff.”

She leaned back in her chair. “Well shit.”

“Do you think you like both?”

Chloe winced. “Not sure? I _thought_ I liked men.”

“But?”

“Ugh, I dunno,” Chloe whined. “Feelings towards girls are way more intense than anything I’ve felt for a guy. I legitimately don’t think I’ve ever felt this before, and I thought I had a crush on Adrien too for the better half of my life.”

Marinette shrugged. “Are you attracted to them? Physically or otherwise?”

“I mean, I can appreciate a hot guy, but.” Chloe paused and struggled with the words. “It’s like if I were to picture me and a guy together, I like the idea of them liking me back. And I like the idea of them doting on me. But swap in a girl and forget it, it’s way nicer, much preferred.”

Marinette hummed. “Could be that you’re just more attracted to girls? Or maybe that you like the _idea_ of someone liking you back and doting on you, and not necessarily boys themselves?”

Chloe rolled her eyes. “Well which one is it?”

“Those are just my guesses,” she replied. “I don’t know which one’s true. Personally, dating other girls cleared that stuff up for me, but again, it all depends on you.

“Why is that simultaneously comforting and unsatisfying?”

“Because it’s normal to be confused, but you might be confused for a while,” Marinette laughed. “It’s kinda like getting used to a new idea, if that makes sense. This stuff’s probably not going to make perfect sense right away.”

Chloe leaned her chin in her hand. “Yippee….”

“Alright, well, let’s go with the easy bit. You’re positive you like women, right?”

“Definitely,” Chloe decided. “Romantically and sexually. Like dating them and being physical with them both sound great.”

Marinette lowered her voice and whispered at Chloe. “Sounds a little gay to me,” she joked.

Chloe glared. “I’m gathering that, thank you very much, genius!”

Marinette laughed. “Alright, well, what are you thinking? I mean, I’m getting the sense you want to at least try dating or something. Being on a dating app and all that.”

Chloe wrinkled her nose and reached around in her pockets for her cellphone. “Yeah, about that.” She opened up the dating app. “This is a fucking sham.”

Marinette frowned. “Why?”

“No one messages you back!” Chloe cried out. “How the hell are you supposed to meet people if they don’t talk to you?”

“Well, have _you_ messaged people?”

“No! Why on Earth would I do that?”

She spoke to Chloe much like a child would. “So people will message you back…”

“What do you say to people on these stupid things?”

“Oh my God, give me your phone.”

Chloe clutched the device to her chest. “Abso-fucking-lutely not! I don’t need you sabotaging me!”

“Do you want to meet people or not?”

“Of course I do!”

“So you have to _talk_ to people, you idiot.”

“Shut up! I’m new at this!”

“For the love of God, Chloe. Move over!”

Marinette grabbed her chair and dragged it around to the other side of the table, making Chloe shove her own chair over so that they could sit close enough for their elbows to bump. She reached over to click on the dating app before Chloe pulled it away again. “Stop it! I can do it myself!”

“Clearly not or you’d be on a date with someone right now.”

Chloe pouted and stomped a foot on Marinette’s. “ _RUDE!_ ”

Marinette kicked her in the shin. “Don’t _hit me!_ ”

“You’re being annoying!”

Marinette visibly held herself back inhaled sharply through her nose. “Just show me your _stupid_ phone. If I wanted to sabotage you, don’t you think I would’ve done it already?”

Chloe narrowed her eyes, hesitated, and slowly slid her phone into Marinette’s hands. “...I will snatch that back if I feel it’s being abused.”

Marinette leaned back in her chair and opened up Chloe’s dating app. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.” She frowned. “Why is your mileage so high?”

“So more people can find me!”

“People aren’t going to swipe you if you’re 17 miles away, Chloe. I’m bumping it down to 10.”

“Only ten? That’s nothing!”

“You’re in Paris,” Marinette said. “There are probably over a hundred queer girls around you within a _five_ mile radius, let alone ten. I would know, mine is bumped down to five.”

Chloe groaned. “Ugh, fine whatever.”

Marinette smirked. “I see you bought the extra features.”

“One more word about that, Dupain-Cheng. One more word.”

“Fine, fine. You also get more superlikes with this, by the way. And you can make it so that you’re bumped up to the top of everyone’s stacks. For the record. Might help you get more matches.”

“The fact that you have this down to such a science is the most disturbing and fascinating thing I’ve ever learned about you.”

“I’ve been on it for months, that’s all.” Marinette nodded appreciatively. “All of your matches are so pretty, Chloe.”

Chloe gave a small smile and leaned in close to look along. “Think so?”

“Definitely,” Marinette smiled. “I see you’re into the really femme dark haired girls, huh?”

“Yeeeaaah,” Chloe drew out, nervously thinking back to Ladybug and the embarrassing amount of time Chloe spent in class looking through Marinette’s Instagram to confirm whether or not she did in fact have a cute smile or whether the cheap lighting in the school bathroom this morning was playing tricks on her. Spoiler alert: the lights had done nothing, Marinette was indeed adorable, and Chloe still needed to unpack that whole thought later on in private. “That sounds about right.”

“That’s good!” Marinette encouraged. “You’ve got a start on figuring out the kinds of people you like. Oh, you never really answered my question before by the way. What is it you’re trying to do on this?”

“The whole point was meeting people,” Chloe mused. “But, in person. Like I wanted to hang out with another girl who liked me.”

“So dating.”

Chloe winced. “I guess.”

“Why the face?” Marinette chuckled.

“I’ve never dated girls before, excuse me for being iffy about it.”

“Relax,” Marinette soothed. “Let’s just start with talking, okay? Then you can work up to a date. Which one do you wanna message first?”

Chloe whined and bounced in her chair. “Mmmmm, don’t make me do this.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Alright, then. Have it your way.” She flicked her finger, let the row of matches flip quickly past, and tapped down to stop on a profile. “Let’s send a little message to Celeste.”

Chloe’s eyes widened. “ _What!?”_

“Oh, she’s 16,” Marinette read. “Loves American romantic comedies. Oh, and she has three cats! Would love to go out for coffee sometime….”

“Marinette don’t you even try it.”

She pressed a hand to her chest. “Aw, she’s nervous about messaging first, but excited to chat with people. Oh my God, let’s send her something.”

“Let’s _not!_ ”

Marinette tapped her chin. “Hm, what’s a good emoji for an opening message…?”

Chloe sprung up from her seat and she reached around Marinette’s shoulders for her phone. “I warned you!”

“Oh come on, let’s see if she messages you back!” Marinette laughed. She was leaning out of her chair and holding her arm out as far as she could while Chloe tried to dig her nails into her arm. “It’s harmless!”

“I don’t trust you!”

“I’m not going to do anything bad! It’s just one message!”

“I’ll fucking bite you, Marinette, give it back!”

“No! And get the hell off of me, you maniac!”

“Give me my phone back first!”

“I’m trying to get you a damn date, you ingrate, my God!”

By the time Chloe accidentally pushed Marinette off of her seat and sent them both sprawling to the ground in front of a café full of people, the manager had to come over and kindly ask the two of them to leave.

They wound up sitting a meter apart from each other on the edge of a fountain in the plaza right across the street. Chloe was keeping both of her hands cupped protectively around her cellphone screen while Marinette frowned and scrutinized the skin on the underside of her arm.

“I can’t believe you actually bit me,” Marinette said in disgust.

Chloe pulled her shoulders up to her ears. “I warned you about sabotaging me,” she grumbled.

“I wasn’t sabotaging you!” Marinette said in exasperation. “Gosh, what is the matter with you? Are you really that nervous about messaging other girls?”

“Nothing's the matter with me,” Chloe glared. “And it’s not nerves. At least I don’t think it is. I just….I don’t know! Okay?”

Chloe was expecting some overly optimistic and infuriatingly understanding comment to come from Marinette next, but she stayed surprisingly silent. Chloe looked to the right and saw Marinette staring quietly, looking guilty or sympathetic or like she wanted to say something but wasn’t sure how she wanted to phrase it. Maybe it was all three at once. Chloe suddenly realized what an awkward position they’d just placed each other in, what with the physical space forced in between them and the tension that hung heavily in exchange, as if they hadn’t just spent a pleasant few minutes sharing intimate details about themselves that they normally wouldn’t have brought up before.

She didn’t quite appreciate how complicated this “enemies functioning under a truce” thing would work.

Marinette kept her gaze down in her lap. “I’m sorry,” she finally said. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable,” Chloe answered tiredly. “I wouldn’t still be sitting here with you if you did.”

“Still, I don’t want you to feel like I’m rushing you into something. It’s sort of a habit to be really forward with you, and I guess I should check it back a bit. This is all stuff you need to do at your pace.”

Chloe snorted. “It’s not a matter of doing things too quickly. It’s not like this is something I don’t want to do.”

“Um,” Marinette said dryly. “You attacked me because you were afraid for me to message a girl you matched with. I sort of assumed that meant you didn’t actually want to talk to people yet.”

“No I do,” Chloe sighed. “Honest, I do. I wouldn’t have gotten the app if that isn’t something I wanted to do. It’s just….” She sighed. “God, I don’t even know how to explain this.”

Marinette bit her lip and shifted closer to Chloe, still keeping care to leave some space in between them. “Try? I still want to help you if you need it, but I can’t do that if you don’t tell me things.”

Chloe pressed her fingers into her temples. “You can’t tell anyone about — ”

“Stop saying that,” Marinette interrupted. “Look, I know we’re not on good terms or anything, but if you really think I’m that low to go and brag about this stuff to people, you must really be delusional. I’m not going to tell anyone about any of this, so you can stop warning and threatening me about it.”

“Well good for you!” Chloe bit back. “Marinette is so good and noble and upstanding and cares about people’s feelings, but other people may not be as chivalrous.”

“What other people?” Marinette asked. “Chloe, what’s wrong?”

“It’s embarrassing! Alright?” Chloe shouted. A few people around them turned to stare, and she watched Marinette shut her mouth closed and lean away from her a bit, but the words were already said and the rest just followed without trouble. “This, everything about this, talking to you, messaging people, being caught on a _fucking_ app because I wasn’t being careful enough, every single thing about this mess is embarrassing.” She spread her arms wide. “There! Happy? You know everything.”

She crossed one leg over the other and purposefully turned her back to Marinette because she had no interest in seeing her face. One speck of pity in Marinette’s expression and Chloe was sure she was going to make herself sick or have to run away and not look behind her. It was like no matter what Chloe did, she kept accidentally giving Marinette fodder to hold over her head on the off chance that she ever wanted to hit her where it hurt. Chloe was ten seconds away from just duct taping her mouth shut or forcing Adrien to confiscate her phone, put it in a lockbox, and throw it in the river. Honestly, you only ever saw these kinds of self-sabotaging train wrecks in movies, and Chloe was starting to wonder if she finally hit the threshold of pissing off just enough people to finally deserve this.

Marinette gently tapped her on the shoulder, but Chloe refused to turn to her. “You can’t just say things like that and then ignore me.”

“Watch me.”

“I….” Marinette hesitated. “I-I didn’t embarrass you, did I?”

And goddammit, Marinette wasn’t _allowed_ to sound that sincere because Chloe had no defenses against that sort of thing. Cute girls weren’t allowed to sound so sorry because then Chloe couldn’t ignore her like she wanted to, and it wasn’t freaking _fair_ that Marinette had slotted herself into this category without even asking.

“No,” Chloe grumbled. “But everyone’s not you.”

Marinette was right next to her now — their legs touching and her hand on Chloe’s shoulder, offering a weight that Chloe felt she wasn’t supposed to be shrugging off no matter how much her gut was telling her to. “What’s everyone else like?”

Chloe sighed. “Everyone else is the type to latch onto this — the fact that I have no idea what I’m doing — and give me hell for it.”

“Why would you think that — ”

“Because that’s what people are like, Marinette!” Chloe exclaimed. “People are nosy and like to stick their noses into anything remotely juicy and blow it up because it’s funny and sensational and _cool_ . And trust me, sometimes a bad rep is just a bad rep and you just move on and ignore it because none of it’s real. But this is _super_ real. This is the realest thing I’ve ever had to deal with and like hell am I giving people an excuse to make fun of me for something that I can’t help.”

Marinette snorted. “Yeah. Wonder who I know who’s like that….”

Chloe whirled around angrily to face Marinette, but Marinette didn’t look daunted. “Don’t stare at me like that. Look at me and tell me that you don’t do that to people in your life to. You do it to me all the time.”

“That’s….” Chloe began. “That’s ridiculous — ”

“Is it really?” Marinette argued. She shut her eyes and shook her head. “I’m not saying this to rip into you or to say that you deserve this. But you’ve done exactly what you described — latched onto something you found embarrassing or juicy, blew it up, and used it for a laugh. And you’re right, people like you are a dime a dozen and it hurts when people trivialize something that’s meaningful to you.”

“You _are_ saying this to rip into me,” Chloe snarled. “I don’t need this!”

But Marinette’s hand pressed down on her shoulder and held her in place. “Do you want to know what the rest of us do when stuff like that happens? Do you want to know what _I_ do when you and other people have done that to me?” She smiled and shrugged carelessly. “Absolutely nothing.”

Chloe frowned. “What?”

“Don’t do anything,” Marinette suggested. “Don’t change, don’t let it slow you down, and don’t let it stop you from doing what you like. Because one person making you feel like crap about yourself doesn’t change the fact that you have value and that you deserve to be happy. Someone makes you feel like crap for not knowing enough about your sexuality or what it means to like girls? Screw them. Move on. Keep living and keep learning and keeping getting comfortable with it. Because there are people out there who are going to appreciate you despite all that rot.”

Marinette’s thumb was absently making circles into Chloe’s shoulders, and suddenly Chloe had the sense that she was just smacked in the face and given a hug all in the span of a single minute. “You’re….” she swallowed. “You’re trying to make me feel better.”

Marinette nodded. “That’s the idea.”

“ _Why?”_

“Because you’re a person?” Marinette said as if it were so obvious to everyone except Chloe. “A person who’s confused and scared that people are going to make fun of her for being confused. I knew that the minute you asked me in the bathroom not to tell anyone. And I know what this confusion feels like, and….I don’t know! I guess it doesn’t make sense for people to have to go through that if they don’t have to.”

Chloe licked her lips, stared at the endearing smile on Marinette’s lips, and decided to stick to her previous statement.

She really and truly didn’t get Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

“You hate me,” she breathed out.

Marinette snorted. “Hate’s a strong word. You piss me off something awful on a regular basis. But I don’t hate you. Not now anyway. I can’t.”

Chloe huffed. “You can’t _say_ things like that. Now I can’t hate you back. You have to always ruin everything, don’t you?”

Marinette winked. “Glad to be of service.” She stared at Chloe’s phone lying in her lap. “Wanna just call it a day? We’ve been out for a while and I don’t want this to turn into an interrogation.”

Chloe blinked. “That’s it?”

“One step at a time,” Marinette reasoned. “I was only teasing. I didn’t really plan on forcing you to do something you didn’t want to do yet. Besides, I feel like there’s such a thing as too much talking at once.”

Chloe wrinkled her nose. “I feel like we barely got anywhere.”

“Sorry. This isn’t the kind of thing you can figure out in a day. But you have my number. I’m serious. Text me with anything.”

Chloe gripped her phone in her hands, Marinette’s number already safely added to her contacts, and found herself staring. It was strange that Marinette almost got prettier when she did something nice — like all of their hang ups with each other acted as an opaque screen that prevented Chloe from seeing something that must have already been there all along. But it didn’t make sense because nothing about her appearance was changing, and she looked the exact same as she did this morning, as she did in all her pictures, as she did since they got placed in the same class during their very first year of lycée. But despite all the awful things Chloe had ever said or done to Marinette — and she wasn’t in denial about that sort of thing, she was intimately aware of it — Marinette still had the gall to smile at her, help her, and offer her ear in exchange.

You couldn’t look at a person like that and not find something strangely beautiful about them. It reminded her of those times where Chloe would watch Ladybug stand herself in between civilians and akumas, take death defying leaps off buildings, and pour every single drop of energy in her body towards protecting the people in this city regardless of whether or not they deserved it. It was part of the reason Ladybug had captured her attention so spectacularly, and why Chloe was so overcome with her affection for the hero that it often scared her when she was in her room by herself, watching Ladyblog livestreams from the day before.

She supposed it made sense that a do-gooder like Marinette would turn out to be that selfless as well. Chloe supposed she had to grudgingly and privately respect her for that. Chloe probably wouldn’t have been as nice if the situation had been switched.

Well. One more thing to try and get used to. She might as well start keeping a list.

“Okay,” she nodded. “I’ll text you. Next time we can actually finish our drinks.”

Marinette smirked. “Are you inviting me out for coffee again?”

“Stop trying to ruin the moment, you brat.”

“Sorry,” Marinette laughed. “Force of habit. But coffee again sounds nice. Just let me know when you wanna chat.”

“Fair enough.” Chloe dug the heel of her shoe into the cobblestone underneath them and smirked. “I still think your face is annoying.”

“And I still think your voice is annoying.”

Chloe grinned. “Good to know that hasn’t changed.”

* * *

 

Celeste was freaking precious.

She was one of Chloe’s first matches, and admittedly Chloe only really looked at her top photo before she immediately swiped right. She was that pretty. But now that she was taking the time to look through her profile like Marinette had started doing before, she suddenly felt stupid for having held off on messaging her matches for so long.

Sixteen, same age as Chloe. Had three cats. Loved American rom coms and coffee dates. Hated messaging first.

She went to a middle school about three miles away from Chloe’s, she was a singer, and she was “excited to meet new and interesting ladies.”

Chloe couldn’t find her on Facebook, but her Instagram profile was plenty informative. She posted cute nail art pictures every week that looked almost as good as the ones Chloe liked to do. She baked a lot. She always posted pictures of her crying over her history homework. She had a core group of about four friends that she was always taking pictures with in the park, at school, in what looked to be her bedroom. She also had a couple of pictures where she was proudly sporting Chat Noir themed sweaters, beanies, and tights that she’d probably bought from one of the many online boutiques that started selling themed items based on the Parisian heroes. Chloe laughed when she came upon a picture of Celeste that was basically her laughing while using the Chat Noir Snapchat filter that had been live last week.

She was playing through some of the Instagram videos of Celeste singing in her school’s choir while she laid out in her bed that evening, contemplating whether sending a message to her would be worth it.

Chloe switched out of Instagram and stared at Celeste’s top photo on the dating app — black curly hair, light brown eyes, dimples in her cheeks, a large stunning smile, and cheeks that looked pleasantly sun kissed as she posed against a balcony overlooking the city just as the sun was setting. She was altogether charming, and Chloe could at least function under the comforting fact that Celeste also found her pretty and liked her back.

The fuck of it all was actually not sounding like an idiot when she talked to her.

When they walked home that afternoon, Marinette struck a very good point. There were no drawbacks here. If Chloe didn’t like where the conversation was going, didn’t want to see Celeste again, got uncomfortable, or wanted to back out last minute, all it took was a quick unmatch and Chloe was free to start over with someone else. That at least was a comforting thought. Of course that didn’t stop the fact that Chloe was a damn coward and didn’t even know how flirting was supposed to work over text when you didn’t even know who the other person was.

Chloe rolled onto her stomach and hugged a pillow against her face. This didn’t necessarily have to be anything incredibly serious. No need to look for the love of her life or a serious girlfriend. How had Marinette worded it? Experimenting? She could do that. Just talk and go on a couple of dates to see how things felt.

This wasn’t hard. She could totally do this.

Chloe’s hand hovered over the chatting window before she chickened out and opened her texts.

 

> **chloe:** how the fuck do you even drop an opening line on this thing?
> 
> **marinette:**...by typing words and hitting send?
> 
> **chloe:** don’t you start! im serious
> 
> **marinette:** im serious too! you’re overthinking it.
> 
> **chloe:** so what do i just
> 
> **chloe:** say hi?
> 
> **marinette:**...eeeehhhhhhhh
> 
> **chloe:** oh what you can’t say hi to people anymore??????
> 
> **marinette:** i mean its not a bad opening. but everyone says hi. gets boring and blends in with everyone else’s messages. shrinks the chance they’ll get back to you
> 
> **marinette:** idk personally im less likely to message you back if you just say hi.
> 
> **chloe:** so if i dont say hi what do i say?
> 
> **marinette:** plucking something from their profile usually works. shows you cared enough to read it and come up with a cute response
> 
> **chloe:**...huh
> 
> **marinette:** i promise it works. pick something cute. you talked your way out of taking a test by saying you were mourning a dog you never owned. this is nothing for you.
> 
> **chloe:** god im still not over the fact that you’re actually being helpful
> 
> **marinette:** ;)
> 
> **marinette:** good luck drama queen

Chloe snorted fondly at the text and went back to the dating app. Well, that didn’t seem too hard. It wasn’t like she had a shortage of things to work with. Thank goodness, because Chloe didn’t know what she’d do if she was faced with one of those profiles that only had two photos, no bio, and no other social media to speak of. Besides, if _Marinette_ could figure out how to be smooth on this thing, then it probably wouldn’t take Chloe all that long to catch on.

She drummed her nails on the back of her phone case and flipped through Celeste’s Instagram photos before stopping on a picture of her modelling in a Chat Noir sweater that had cat ears on the top of the hood. Chloe squinted at the photo, jumped out of her bed, and started rifling through her closet. She shoved aside all of her sundresses and blazers until she got to the back of the closet where she left all her sweaters. She pulled out the Ladybug sweatshirt she’d bought a couple of weeks ago that had antennae on the hood. When she bought it online, she was almost positive that they were offering a 2 for 1 sale with this sweatshirt and the same Chat Noir sweatshirt Celeste was wearing. They probably ordered from the same boutique.

Huh. That was a good enough opening, right?

Chloe threw herself back on her bed, hugged her Ladybug sweatshirt to her chest, and kissed it. “Wish me luck, Ladybug.” She pulled out her phone and opened the chat window. 

 

> **chloe:** i was looking through your instagram and have to commend you on the chat noir sweater. very cute :)

She rolled over onto her stomach and screamed into her pillow after she hit send. God it sounded so creepy and stupid but maybe that was just her being dramatic. If Marinette was right about the whole boring opening message thing, at the very least this would get this girl’s attention. Was it weird that she admitted to looking through her Instagram? It was attached to her profile, so it had to have been there for you to look through. Plus, if someone told Chloe that they had looked through her Instagram she would’ve been totally flattered. But not everyone was Chloe. Maybe scrolling through it too much really was sort of desperate.

Ugh.

She started texting Marinette. 

 

> **chloe:** I FUCKING SENT IT KILL ME IM A GD IDIOT
> 
> **marinette:** what did you say?
> 
> **chloe:** said she looked cute in an outfit she was wearing on an instragram photo
> 
> **marinette:** that’s good! whats the problem?
> 
> **chloe:** idk leave me alone im just sitting here like a nerd waiting for her to message back ugh this is so stupid i instagram stalked her for this
> 
> **marinette:** wow go do your hw or something. she’ll message you back just be patient. distract yourself.
> 
> **chloe:** >.>
> 
> **marinette:** shoo

“Brat,” Chloe grumbled. How someone could be so helpful and unhelpful all at the same time was a damn miracle.

She lounged around her room and talked on the phone with Sabrina for about an hour, started her maths homework before quickly getting bored, stalked the Ladyblog, scrolled through Facebook, and started taking off her nail polish to redo her nails. The more time went by the more her stomach starting curling up in anticipation. Chloe kept checking her phone and hoping that she’d get a message from Celeste, but it got to the point where she had to keep her phone across the room so she wouldn’t be tempted to look at it every two minutes. It was silly to pine over it and wait for a response. Not everyone was permanently attached to their phone. Maybe her phone was dead. Maybe she was sleeping. Busy. Doing homework. Just not checking her screen. There. Simple and logical, no need to start getting in her head about this. Besides, there were a good forty other matches and counting she could try and message. Relax.

Of course, the state of calm and rationality she’d lulled herself into didn’t stop Chloe from vaulting herself from her bed, almost falling flat on her face, and diving into her desk to retrieve her phone when she heard the notification from the dating app go off. She saw the dating app logo and Celeste’s name blinking on the screen, and Chloe had never unlocked her phone so quickly in her life.

 

> **celeste:** aw thank you! ^.^ im a big fan of his. plus the cat ears were adorable.

Screw looking desperate and replying back right away. Chloe didn’t even freaking care.

 

> **chloe:** they are! :P although im partial to ladybug. i think we stole sweatshirts from the same boutique actually
> 
> **celeste:** shut up! you have the ladybug sweatshirt? like the one with the antennas?

Chloe giggled, grabbed the sweatshirt off her bed, and yanked it over her head. She pulled the hood up, aimed the selfie camera at herself, and gave a cute little wink and smile as she took the picture. Fantastic shot on the first try, as per usual. She sent Celeste the photo and added a message.

 

> **chloe:** you doubt me ;)

The chat went quiet for a couple of minutes, but Chloe was rewarded for her patience when Celeste sent a brand new picture of herself in the Chat Noir sweater, this time mirroring Chloe’s exact pose and winking into the camera as well.

 

> **celeste:** haha yay! we match! please tell me you follow the ladyblog. my friends dont understand my enthusiasm >.<

Chloe climbed into her bed, hugged her knees to her chest, and smiled as she responded back, ignoring the late hour, the fact that it was a school night, and the fact that she still had assignments she was meant to be finishing.

 

> **chloe:** dont even get me started on the ladyblog. that thing is my lifeblood. did you see the new photos today?
> 
> **celeste:** yes! weren’t they fantastic?
> 
> **chloe:** ive been staring at them for the past hour
> 
> **celeste:** wait. seeing as how you’re such a fan something tells me this isn’t your only piece of ladybug swag.
> 
> **chloe:** you’d assume correctly. im no amateur :P
> 
> **celeste:** show me some? i’ll trade you for pics of my chat noir scarf ;)

Chloe laughed, eyed the part of her closet that she knew had all of her Ladybug dresses, skirts, and sweaters, and didn’t hesitate for a second before she typed back.

 

> **chloe:** youre on


End file.
